Of Theives and Scoundrels
by Porcelain Wood
Summary: Natalie and Stephen are arrested for trespassing during a case. With no time to spare the team comes up with very 'interesting' ways to complete the case.
1. Chapter 1

**Of Theives and Scoundrels.**

**Author:** Whit

**Rating: Pg-13**

**Disclaimer:** Medical Investigation is the property of NBC and I do not make any claim.

**Feedback:** Is a fine thing.

**Archiving:** If there is another place for Medical Investigation stories you may place this there. Tell me first.

* * *

There were eight things coursing through Natalie's mind that she was trying not to think of.

The first being that the mud in the lot at Burke and Friday's factory was not the natural brown that it should be. From what she had seen it hardly even looked like it could be mud. It was black, slimy, and had green lumps in it that she had been afraid to touch. This _mud_ she had realized, took up most of the area where they dumped their waste and most of the back lot that wasn't used for waste storage at all. It was a frightening thing, wondering what the stuff really was.

The second was that the owner of Burke and Friday's, the son of the latter, was neither bright nor kind.

The third was that neither were the Fulton County police.

The fourth thing was that she hadn't really agreed to sneaking around John Friday's factory lot at two o'clock in the morning. In fact, she was certain that sneaking around properties and getting samples was Frank's job.

The fifth thing was that she had ten patients back at the Procter hospital suffering from high fevers and unfriendly looking skin rashes who would probably not understand why their doctor was where she was while they were dying.

The sixth thing was that her wrists really did hurt, and that she wished the Fulton County police hadn't been so..feisty, and why the hell were the seats in the back of police cars made of plastic?

The seventh thing was that she was never going on a scavenger hunt with Stephen at two o'clock in the morning again.

"We'll be taken you downtown," the officer in the front of the car told them.

If Natalie thought hard enough she was certain she could remember his name, Officer Richer. Yes, the one with the beard and the smirk who had given them a personal warning about how the town was run two days before when they arrived in Fulton. She looked over at Stephen, who was sitting beside her in the back of the car, and wasn't surprised to see his jaw clenched. They were being arrested, weren't they? Besides they weren't going downtown at all, Natalie thought smugly, the police station was north of the factory.

"I don't want to hear a fuss out of either of you," he continued, looking in the mirror at Stephen.

What was there to fuss about?

Only the ten dying patients at the hospital, the fact that the mud at Burke and Friday's wasn't mud but radioactive sludge, and the metal handcuffs that were digging into both of their wrists...and the plastic seats.

"Got that?" Officer Richer added as a second thought.

"The hell we don't," Stephen mumbled.

Natalie refused to smile, though she wanted to. She was sure that the officer hadn't heard him. Instead of looking at her companion she looked at the back of Richer's head, "How long will be downtown?"

_Uptown._

"Until someone posts bail," Richer answered. "There is a minimum waiting period of six hours."

"What is the bail?" Stephen asked crisply.

"One hundred for trespassing, one hundred for theft. Times that by two you have four hundred dollars altogether."

_Amazing math skills really, why didn't he pursue a higher thinking career?_ Natalie couldn't help but muse.

She wondered if taking samples of mud could be considered theft.

Officer Richer was a fast driver when he had his sirens on. He took turns faster than Natalie was comfortable taking them at, showed no mercy when going through stop signs and lights, and seemed ready to break out into road rage at any second if necessary.

The eighth thing that ran through Natalie's mind, as she was using her cuffed hands to push herself off Stephen, was that of all the police cars they could have been placed in, they were in one that had no seat belts.

Was that legal?

* * *

**Chapter two will be posted if there is interest.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Of Theives and Scoundrels.**

**Author:** Whit

**Rating: Pg-13**

**Disclaimer:** Medical Investigation is the property of NBC and I do not make any claim.

**Feedback:** Is a fine thing.

**Archiving:** If there is another place for Medical Investigation stories you may place this there. Tell me first.

* * *

It was raining in their holding cell.

Natalie sat on the four foot long bench and stared at the concrete ceiling, her eyes following the large crack that was allowing water to drip through. It stretched across two thirds of the cell and as a result of it there were small puddles of water on the floor.

Stephen paced, avoiding the puddles, his hand rubbing through his blonde hair as he tried to think through their situation. They'd been printed and had spent their first fifteen minutes of their six hour minimum in silence. As in the movies, they had been promised a phone call each and were offered a glass (plastic of course) of water, both had declined, seeing as there was already enough on the floor of their cell.

Tearing her eyes away from the ceiling, Natalie looked at Stephen, willing her eyes to remain open. She was running on two days of no sleep and no food and knew she looked as bad as Stephen did, which wasn't saying much. Other than his slightly tousled hair and irritable mood (which could hardly be counted as a symptom of no sleep) he looked decent. She willed him to stop pacing, focused hard, but it was to no avail.

"We have to figure this out," she finally stated, "three of our patients only have an hour left."

"I know," he grunted, turning his back to her as he paced to the cell door.

She watched him stalk her direction once more and frowned, "Frank should have gone with you, not me." There was no accusation in her voice, just truth. With only one doctor among ten patients there would be difficulties larger than Natalie wanted to imagine. If Frank had gone with Stephen instead of her at least Miles wouldn't be alone treating the patients.

"I know," he mumbled while pausing.

"There is radioactive sludge on the bottom of your shoes," She chimed as he strode away again. They couldn't be sure that the black mud was actually radioactive, but Natalie wasn't going to rule out anything

"I know," Stephen called out, sounding as if he were only vaguely aware of what she had said.

Natalie sighed and wiped a hand across her face, suddenly becoming engrossed with the thick read welts on her wrists. Why had they handcuffed her in the first place, she had gone willingly? Even Stephen hadn't said a word when the police appeared with their sirens. She ran a finger along one of the welts as Stephen walked in her direction again.

"How are we going to get the samples to Frank?" Stephen asked himself softly, not aware that he was speaking aloud. "They'll be keeping an eye on Burke and Friday's, he won't be able to get in."

Forgetting about her wrist, Natalie looked at him for a silent moment, her tired mind working quickly to answer the question he had asked himself. When he started to pace away again she shook her head. "Call Frank," she spoke slowly, a plan beginning to form, "tell Richer that you'd like if Frank could bring you a new pair of shoes, yours are covered in mud." They certainly were.

Stephen stopped, nodded once, and looked thoughtful, "That might work."

"Of course," Natalie added after a moment, "Richer might laugh at you. I didn't get the impression that the comfort of his inmates was a main priority."

"No, not shoes," Stephen mumbled, his eyes squinting. "It has to be something he cannot deny according to the law."

"According to the law gathering mud samples is not theft, but that didn't matter, did it?" She pointed out grudgingly.

Stephen sat down with a plop next to her (she couldn't deny that it was a relief) and rubbed his eyes, "Richer never really _saw _Frank, did he?"

"No," Natalie said confidently, "Frank wasn't there with us when we came in, he was already swabbing several of the patients' houses. Why?"

Another thoughtful expression crossed Stephen's face as he looked up at the ceiling, "government buildings aren't suppose to rain on the instead. It's a health code violation."

"We are not calling the health department, Stephen," Natalie sighed, "it's one thing to have one vindictive police officer, it's another to have an entire force."

"I wasn't thinking about calling in the health department, Nat," Stephen explained. "I was thinking more along the lines of a contractor." He paused, "Do you know if Frank is good at acting?"

"Wouldn't be able to tell you," Natalie answered. "He's not a decent liar, though."

Stephen frowned, "Eva is..."

"We're in the south, Stephen, no officer in his right mind," _let along wrong_, "is going to believe that Eva is a contractor. It'd have to be Frank, and even that is a long shot."

"You're right," he agreed.

Something told her that her doubts made the idea even more appealing to him.

"Stephen," she warned, "it's two o'clock in the morning, no decent officer is going to believe that a building contractor is working this late."

There that did it.

He stood and began pacing once more.

Nibbling on her lower lip, Natalie rested her head against the cold concrete wall and began thinking.

_One sheep._

_Two sheep._

_No. No!_

Her eyes flew open and she shook her head, she was not going to fall asleep in the police station. With some twisted gift of luck Stephen hadn't seen her and was still retreating towards the other wall.

What could they possibly do?

Natalie poked her shoe into a puddle of water and sighed, the only thing she could think of doing was having Eva turn their case into a media spectical and not even Stephen would agree to that.

_Eva..._

"Hmmm," Natalie mumbled and idea presenting itself to her.

"What?" Stephen asked, he turned early and moved back towards her.

"Eva may not be able to pretend to be a contractor, but our Officer Richer looks like a man who can easily be swayed by a woman's influence. We could have her bat a few eyelashes, recount stories of hot days and I'm certain he'd let her do anything she wanted." Natalie gauged Stephen's reaction.

He smiled a little, "Your call or mine?"

Natalie let the corners of her mouth curl up slightly as she stood, "Mine."

Three minutes later she was standing beside a phone, dialing a familiar number and trying her hardest not to look at Officer Richer standing six feet away from her.

"Eva," she said when she got an answer.

"Nat," Eva started, "where are you guys?"

It was hopeless, Natalie couldn't help but laugh softly. "Well," she looked around at the gray walls, "that's a long story and I only have five minutes."

There was a moment of silence before Eva dead panned, "Oh my god."

"Something like that," Natalie muttered.


End file.
